


Downpour

by fandammit



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5837149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandammit/pseuds/fandammit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd never been a romantic; it hadn't fit with the version of himself he'd forged on the Ark. Pragmatic, he would've called himself. Unafraid. (Cold, others had whispered. Ruthless.)</p><p>There’s something about the ground, though, that had softened his edges. No, not the ground itself, but all the things the ground had brought with it; and through it all, it has been Abby at his side. At first, an adversary but now as a partner, a friend, a confidante. Abby, with her limitless compassion and unfailing belief: in her daughter, in their people, in the hard, fought for future.</p><p>In him.<br/>-----<br/>Abby and Marcus get caught in the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downpour

They were a few miles from where they had left the humvee when the rain started. It was just a light drizzle - a mist, really, that didn’t do much but coat their hair and clothes in fine droplets of water - but they started the trek back anyway. They had both seen how quickly the rain could build and neither were eager to try to make their way back through the woods in a torrential downpour.

“Guess bringing a jacket everywhere isn’t such a ridiculous idea after all,” Marcus said triumphantly, grinning over at her. 

It had been a source of teasing from Abby - his constant need to tote his guard jacket around any time he left the comfort of his room. It had made sense their first couple of months on the ground, when the chilly weather made the jacket a necessity; but as the weather had warmed and most people - including Abby - opted for tanks tops and rolled up pants, Marcus still stubbornly dragged his jacket with him everywhere he went. 

When they’d loaded up the humvee that morning, his jacket tied securely around his waist, she’d playfully tugged at it and lifted a questioning eyebrow. 

“Marcus,” she’d started, “it’s nearly 80 degrees out and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. What exactly do you think you’ll need this for?”

“I won’t know until I actually need it,” he’d replied. He’d pretended to ponder seriously for a moment. “Don’t worry, I’ll maybe consider sharing it with you. I probably won’t even say I told you so.” He’d paused, then shot her a grin. “Probably.” 

She’d snorted and rolled her eyes at him, which had prompted him to reach out and tug her hair, the way he’d used to when they were young and she was irritating him. 

They’d both laughed at that. She had smiled fondly at him, then.

That playful side of Marcus was something that she’d seen more of in these last few month. It lifted her spirits, reminded her of when they were young - children growing up together on the Ark. They had been partners in crime then, united against the world; before life and hard choices had turned them into enemy Counselors, glaring at each other across a table. 

A nudge from Marcus jostled her out of her musing and back to the moment at hand. 

“Are you going to say I told you so?” she said dryly. 

“I believe the weather speaks for itself.” He smirked at her. “I will say that it’s lucky for you that I am a gracious man in my victory, though.”  

He took off his jacket and edged closer to her, lifting it above both their heads in an attempt to shield them from the rain. It kept the rain out of their eyes and their hair dry. The rain was persistent, though, and soon their shirts were damp with the falling rain.

They’re about half a mile from where they parked the humvee when they feel the rain start to pick up. The light mist becomes a steady drizzle; thunder rolling overhead as if to announce the last summer storm before the cold snap of fall descends. 

Abby spotted an odd shelter ahead them. A piece of debris from the Ark had managed to lodge itself into a massive tree trunk, creating a small refuge completely free from any falling rain. 

She pointed it out to Marcus. 

“Let’s wait over there and see if the worst of the storm will pass. I’d rather not walk to the humvee in a downpour and catch the flu because of it.” 

She said it lightly but there was real worry behind it. Arkadia was by no means primitive; they had managed to salvage plenty from the remnants of the Ark, including medical equipment and supplies. Still, their capabilities weren’t what they used to be and one bad bout of the flu could lay them low. 

They ran over to the small shelter, managing to cram themselves under it just before the heavens began a truly spectacular downpour. The debris, unfortunately, winds up being smaller than they’d first thought - not even wide enough for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder. Marcus crowded the edge of it, half of his body caught in the steady rain. She resisted rolling her eyes at him - an admittedly juvenile reaction that somehow only he prompted - and turned to face him. She reached out and grabbed the front edges of his jacket; turned him so that they were facing one another. 

“There’s room under here for the both of us.” She said easily, though she kept her gaze aimed straight into his chest rather than peering up at him. They were as close as possible under the small roof without actually touching one another; she could feel the heat coming off of him, his breath rustling her hair gently.  

She shivered once at the closeness of him, then found herself continuing to shiver because of the cold. Before she could protest, Marcus stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around her. 

“And what about you?” She asked skeptically, though she had to admit that the warmth of the jacket was comforting. 

He grinned down at her. 

“I have the knowledge of being completely right to keep me warm.” 

She did roll her eyes at that, though she smirked up at him as well. 

She shuffled closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. She felt him start slightly in surprise. 

She smiled into his chest. 

“Just in case the warmth of being right isn’t quite enough.” 

She felt him chuckle in reply before he reached up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. 

* * *

Marcus looked out into the gloom of the forest and wondered how long they should wait before they attempted to walk back to the humvee in the rain. He thought about the medicinal herbs they'd trekked into the forest to get. He attempted to figure out how far off sunset was.

Mostly, he tried desperately not to focus on the closeness of Abby. The press of her body against his. The way her damp shirt had clung to her body as they'd walked in the rain. 

How easy and right it felt to have her in his arms. 

The last thought floated to the forefront of his mind, completely unbidden. And though he’s nearly certain that it hasn’t happened in years, he suddenly felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

He'd never been a romantic; it hadn't fit with the version of himself he'd forged on the Ark. Pragmatic, he would've called himself. Unafraid. (Cold, others had whispered. Ruthless.) 

There’s something about the ground, though, that had softened his edges. No, not the ground itself, but all the things the ground had brought with it; and through it all, it has been Abby at his side. At first, an adversary but now as a partner, a friend, a confidante. Abby, with her limitless compassion and unfailing belief: in her daughter, in their people, in the hard, fought for future. 

In him.

Perhaps, he mused, outside of the unforgiving confines of the Ark, he now had the space to be a romantic. The hope necessary for it.

He was shaken out of his reflection by the feeling of Abby stepping back from his embrace; not enough to leave the comfort of his warmth, but enough to be able to tilt her head back and look him in the eye. 

“This is nice.” 

He looked down at her, incredulity lining his features.

“This is nice? Standing here in our damp clothes, cold and shivering in the rain?” 

She pursed her lips in a poor attempt to hide a smile, though her eyes glittered with amusement. 

“Well, I’m not cold.” She teased.  

He huffed in mock irritation, and untangled his arms from around her shoulders, pretending to be put off. In reality, he simply trailed them down to her waist and settled his hands on the small of her back. 

“Thanks to me.” He replied.

A slow smile spread across her face, one that was almost shy at the edges. 

“I do have a lot to thank you for.” She said quietly.

He saw her pause for a moment before she came up on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the cheek. 

He felt his pulse quicken an unfair amount given the relatively chaste gesture. He looked down at her, unable to stop himself from glancing over to her lips before he met her eyes once more. 

The playfulness from her gaze was completely gone, replaced with something both simmering and electric. 

He reached up and brushed a wet tangle of hair from her face; traced the shape of her jaw lightly with his fingertips. Then, he tipped her chin up and bent down to kiss her gently on the lips. She closed her eyes as he dropped his hands and gripped her firmly on the waist, anchoring himself to her. Her mouth parted beneath his as her hands reached up to tangle themselves in the curling hair at his neck. He stifled a groan as he angled his mouth over hers, trying to memorize the feel of lines of her body as she melted into him; the softness of her lips; the slow, deliberate slide of her tongue on his. 

A loud clap of thunder shook them out of their kiss. Abby’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide open with want.

A look he’s sure was mirrored in his own eyes. 

He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. His heart was pounding in his chest, desire thrumming through him with every beat.

“I think the rain’s letting up,” he heard her say in a husky tone.

He peered out from their shelter and noticed that the rain had subsided to a gentle drizzle once more. He could even make out humvee directly in front of them, closer than he’d initially thought. 

Abby stepped out of his embrace and let her hands drift down from his shoulders. She kept her hand in his though, lacing their fingers together and she turned and faced the direction of the humvee. 

She squeezed his hand and gestured over to the humvee. 

“I’ll race you.” 

He laughed. 

“Seriously?” 

She furrowed her brow as if to say - of course - and bounced up and down on her toes.

He shook his head, partly because he was so charmed by her and partly to shake off the overwhelming desire to bundle her up in his arms and kiss her once more.

“Ok,” he began, “on three. One...two…” 

Before he could finish the countdown, Abby spun on him and grabbed the front of his shirt. She pulled him roughly to her and pressed a kiss to his mouth, swallowing the sound of surprise that rose up from him. She let him deepen the kiss for a moment before she pulled back, slowly grazing her teeth over his bottom lip. 

She smiled brightly at him. 

“Three.” She said breathily, before she turned and sprinted toward the humvee. 

* * *

_ Later _

It was late when he walked Abby to her room for the night, hand resting lightly on her back. The silence between them was as easy and open as always, but now, a feeling of want lingered at the edges of it. 

She turned to face him at her doorway, and for a moment he had trouble meeting her eyes - feels like a bashful, awkward teenager. The moment passes when she shakes her head at him and chuckles, loops her arms around his neck and presses herself against him. 

He dipped his head and kissed her softly, once, twice, three times on the lips - each kiss longer than the last. 

“You were right,” he rumbled in her ear. 

She tilted her head and shot him a questioning look. 

“Before. In the rain.” He smiled down at her. “That  _ was _ nice.” 

She smiled back at him and leaned in one last time to kiss him softly on the lips before she turned and headed into her room. 


End file.
